A MINISTRY SECONDMENT
by capcomplover
Summary: Obviously all characters belong to JKR and no money is made by me.  Hermione is seconded to Hogwarts where surprising feelings surface for an old teacher.  A first attempt at HG/SS, more chapters to come.  All comments welcome.
1. Chapter 1

Professor Snape still found sleep difficult. Ever since the end of the wars, and his period of rehabilitation, he had hoped for this to improve but he still suffered dark dreams. Even his reinstatement at Hogwarts and immersing himself completely in his duties gave him very little respite.

He spent many hours each night prowling the corridors. His sweeping robes, pale, sallow complexion, sunken cheeks and long strides, suggestive of floating along beneath his robes, created an image of one of the castle's ghosts.

During these night hours, the oppressive candlelit darkness of the corridors created ever darker thoughts; wars, betrayal, the return of another Dark Lord intent on revenge on his predecessor's errant followers. However, this was infinitely preferable to the vivid nightmares on the same subjects when he fell into a restless sleep.

Having survived the attack of Nagini and spending many months in St Mungo's Hospital he had eventually been discharged.

However, much of the magical world still did not know of his part in the downfall of the Dark Lord and his followers. His mistakes as a sixteen year old looked like they would follow him to his grave, without the truth ever being fully known.

The Daily Prophet's Rita Skeeter had pursued him relentlessly for his side of the story. But Severus was still a very proud man and would never allow that woman to distort the true story of his secret allegiance to Albus Dumbledore and thus an element of distrust dogged his every step.

He had not thought his existence could be more miserable, until this morning on leaving his potions class he heard a voice that sent shivers down his ramrod straight spine.

'Good morning, Professor.'

He took a deep breath to steady himself, before turning sharply on his heels and staring into the eyes of Hermione Granger.

'Miss Granger, to what do we owe your presence here today?' he drawled through clenched teeth.

'Oh, it's not just for today, Professor. I am on secondment from the Ministry for a term. Mr Shacklebolt believes it will enhance my CV before I apply for promotion. My timetable indicates that I will be joining you once a week. I thought all teachers had been informed.'

'How delightful for us both,' Snape tried to sneer, 'and what pray tell does your secondment entail?'

'I am applying for a position with the Education Department, which will be carrying out a wholesale review of the curricula for OWLS and NEWTS, and I am to write a report based on my observations as part of the interview process.'

'Well, _Miss_ Granger, I am sure your talents as a busybody will lend themselves well to the task.'

With that he turned on his heel and strode quickly away to his study. He sat in his armchair, staring at the wall opposite, images and thoughts of Granger tumbling through his mind; a student with her hand perpetually raised to answer questions; an interfering busybody. He felt, despite himself, an acceptance of her prowess in battle for one so young; again reluctantly, one of the best witches he had ever taught.

Additionally, he had heard through his contacts with other rehabilitated Death Eaters that she had a reputation for giving second chances and forgiveness. He did not want anyone feeling sorry for him, or even worse being condescending, and certainly not Granger. He hoped that she had understood the truth, she was intelligent and as far as he knew still friendly with Potter, who after several years had contacted him to say he understood.

He and Potter would never be friends, there was too much history with his parents, but they now had a grudging respect for each other.

Hogwarts was a large school and, on reflection, he thought he would have little trouble avoiding contact with Granger. However, his mind would not let him forget her and memories tumbled through his head whenever he closed his eyes.

For two days he had avoided contact, eating in his study and avoiding the staffroom, not that he frequented that space very often. Despite everything he was still a very proud man, with a towering intellect, who took great pleasure in imparting knowledge through his teaching and the standard of the current teachers left a lot to be desired, in his opinion. Although, he had to accept that some of his actions in the past had helped to produce the dearth of talent.

After another restless night pacing the corridors he entered his classroom to find Granger already present.

'Miss Granger.'

'Professor.'

'You may sit over there,' he said, pointing a long finger to the corner of the room. 'You will make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, and try to avoid putting your hand in the air for every question.'

Hermione blushed at the reference to her schooldays, but she kept eye contact. She stared into the dark piercing eyes. They were older and suggested a certain tiredness, but they still had a sparkle here in the classroom, his favourite forum.

'As you wish Professor.'

She turned away quickly to avoid Snape seeing her blush with embarrassment at the school reference, her robes billowing out behind her.

As she walked away Snape followed Hermione's steps closely, scrutinising her from head to toe. A disturbing feeling enveloped him as he looked at her shapely ankles, over her calves and up to the sight of her arse moving seductively under her robes, ending with that head of luxuriant hair.

She turned to face him, her face still flushed and her breathing heavy, trying to control her emotions. Snape looked into her fiery, passionate eyes and downwards to her heaving chest, the shape of her breasts obvious beneath her robes.

He looked back into her eyes and they held his. Snape was dismayed to realise that the awkward girl he had despised at school, ignoring her prowess in battle, had developed into a very attractive young woman, and he was reacting to this.

He lowered his eyes and in a gruff voice described the lesson outline to her and then quickly retired behind his desk, avoiding further eye contact.

The lesson went well, but as he circulated around the classroom he could not avoid stealing glances at Granger. He wanted so much to dislike her, but the more he looked the more attractive she appeared.

At the end of the lesson Hermione approached Snape and said, 'Thank you for allowing me access to your class. I may not have liked your methods when I was here, but I can honestly say I learnt the most from your classes and it appears you still have a great talent for teaching.'

Snape did not know how to respond. He said, rather sharply, 'Until next week then,' turned swiftly around and left the room.

Returning to his office his mind was in turmoil. This girl, this woman as she now was, had awakened feelings he had not felt for a long time. He should, he did, still hate her. Didn't he? Snape was confident in his abilities as a wizard and a teacher. He would happily match himself against most. But feelings were not his forte; he had buried them for so many years in striving to become an undercover senior Dark Wizard. Now that part of his life was over, he realised his mistakes, had served a punishment he felt he had not deserved, but forgiveness for those he felt had wronged him did not come easily. He felt that immersing himself back at Hogwarts, doing what he enjoyed, would allow him to quietly live out his days.

Snape sat down heavily in his chair. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temple, trying to forget the morning's events. However, an image of Granger was fixed in his head, those piercing intelligent eyes, the shape of her womanly curves beneath her robes, the enticing swell of her breasts and arse. Snape could still smell her perfume, or was it her own scent.

He started out of his daydream and was shocked to find his hands in his lap resting over the beginnings of an erection.

He stood quickly, went to his sink and rinsed his face with cold water.

'Get a grip, man,' he said out loud to himself. 'This is just your mind defending itself from other disastrous memories.'

With that he swiftly left his office to return to his classroom.

The rest of Snape's day passed in a haze. The lessons went well, as usual, but there were nagging thoughts and images of the morning never far away.

At the end of the day he left the castle, making his way to Hogsmeade, and spent the evening in the tavern, returning late and going straight to his rooms.

Undressing, he retired to his bed and fell asleep quickly with the help of the alcohol he had consumed.

As the effects of the alcohol wore off, his dreams became more vivid. Gone were the nightmares of the past few years, but they were replaced by what he thought were more disturbing images.

Through a thick mist he could see what appeared to be a naked female beckoning to him. As she waved her arm her breasts moved enticingly. Snape felt himself struggling through the mist, which seemed to resist his movements. He got closer and he could now see the face of Granger, erotically licking her lips and continuing to beckon.

He moved closer, his hands outstretched towards her breasts, but she turned and moved away.

Snape looked down to find he was naked. He had a huge erection and as he moved it waved in front of him.

He pursued her and eventually caught her, his cock struck her arse as his hand touched her shoulder.

'Hermione,' he gasped, the use of her forename shocking him.

The apparition turned and he saw the cadaverous face of Voldemort. 'Traitor!' it screamed at him.

Snape woke with a start, a film of cold sweat covering his body. He flung back the bedclothes and his tumescent cock sprang free to slap his belly.

He jumped from his bed, flung on a robe and footwear and left his room.

Snape prowled the corridors, walking quickly without any idea of a route. The castle was quiet and deserted, only the occasional ghost acknowledging his presence.

He turned onto an upper corridor and at the end he could see light shining under a door. Where was he? He took his bearings and realised it was the bathroom corridor for senior girls. What was anyone doing in there at this time of night? Should he summon the matron?

He decided to approach the door and listen for any sounds; maybe the lights had been left on.

At the door he placed his ear against the wood. He could hear the sound of splashing, but also a deeper sound, a groan?

If someone was in trouble he did not have time to summon help, but he could not just barge in to the girls' bathroom.

Snape decided. He waved his wand and the door opened silently, enough for him to slip through.

Through the steam he could see an indistinct figure kneeling in the tub, a head resting on the side of the bath, could hear splashing water and the soft groans of earlier, mixed with mumbled words.

He crept forward and as the steam cleared for a second he was shocked into stillness as he recognised the glorious head of hair that belonged to Granger.

She was bathing, she was naked. Immediately his cock stiffened under his robes. He knew he should leave, but the splashing and indistinct words drew him on.

As he got closer he could see that the splashing was caused by Granger's hands. In one was a dildo that she was smoothly sliding in and out of her pussy, the motion causing splashes and waves in the bath water, her hips rising from it with each stroke.

As her hips broke the surface he could see her other hand strumming on her clit, rubbing and pinching.

Snape's cock was now painfully hard; he drew it from his robes and began to stroke it from tip to root languorously.

He still could not hear what she was muttering, so still stroking his cock he moved forward, the chance of being spotted adding to his excitement.

He could tell she was close to orgasm as her gasps became more explosive and closer together. He could now start to make out some words and stopped, squeezing violently on the head of his cock.

'Severus, yes… fuck me,' she gasped, rubbing her clit harder.

With that her hips rose high out of the water and she screamed out her joy.

Snape tried to turn quickly and leave, but as he did so his shoe made a squeaking noise on the tiles.

Hermione's head shot up. Her eyes wide, her face flushed in the aftermath of her orgasm, she stared into the face of the object of her fantasy. Her eyes slid down his body and she saw his erect cock, gripped in his fist.


	2. Chapter 2

_So for Chapter 2, how had Hermione come to be back at Hogwarts._

Hermione wondered why Kingsley had summoned her. She knew he was pleased with her work; she had only just had her appraisal.

She knocked on his door and entered.

'Good morning, Kingsley,' she said cheerily. 'How can I help you?'

'It is I who is going to help you Hermione. The education department is creating a new post. They want someone to review the curricula for OWLS and NEWTS. I immediately thought of you and have put your name forward. I hope you don't mind? It is a promotion and much higher pay grade.'

'It sounds like a really exciting opportunity,' replied Hermione. 'I don't think I'll have to think about it for long. What is the selection process?'

'Whoever I recommend will have to go to Hogwarts for a month, observe lessons and write a report about what changes they would like to see in these very different times for the magic world. The appointment is, in part, dependent on the quality of the report. Now go away and think about it and let me know tomorrow.'

Hermione left the office with very mixed feelings. It was a task she would love to undertake. However, despite all the good memories of Hogwarts, did it contain too many negative ones?

The biggest potential nemesis was Professor Snape. She knew he was back at the school and she did not know how she would react on seeing him. Hermione prided herself on control of her emotions, well every aspect of her life, actually.

After the wars Hermione's relationship with Ron had continued, but only because everyone assumed it should. However, they soon started to drift apart, Ron concentrating on making it in the professional Quidditch world and Hermione…

Hermione had drifted with no real focus for some time. She had attended all the Death Eater trials, but got no satisfaction from seeing them punished.

She had been pleased that Draco did not receive a harsh punishment. She would also do anything for her family, so she could not really condemn him.

But the trial she thought would banish all her demons took a long time. Snape was recovering in St Mungo's. The whole wizarding world seemed to hold its breath waiting for this event.

When it happened she was shocked to see Harry appear for the defence and it was his testimony that swung the verdict in Snape's favour.

She had questioned Harry extensively after the trial but still could not reconcile her feelings with the answers he gave.

However, in true Hermione style she compartmentalised her feelings and moved forward with her life. Her relationship with Ron ended amicably and she took up an appointment at the Ministry in the education department.

Promotions came rapidly as she applied herself with renewed vigour, immersing herself in her beloved world of academia. But now this had opened up all her old memories and doubts. Why did the thought of seeing Snape again prey so much on her mind? She could not reconcile the admiration she had for him as a teacher with her other feelings. They were almost like lust and passion, though what they felt like she couldn't remember she thought to herself wistfully.

At the end of the day Hermione returned hurriedly to her small apartment. After a small, rushed supper she cleared her table and arranged paper and quills. One piece of paper headed, 'FOR', the other 'AGAINST'.

With a swish of her wand she set the quills hovering above the pages and as she spoke, the quills wrote:

'FOR: Opportunity to help a new generation of witches and wizards. FOR: Enter the education world, an area I love. FOR: In some way, possibly help Muggle-borns. There is still some prejudice out there. Muggle studies needs its profile lifting.' From the serious to the flippant the FOR list had run on for two pages, ending with: 'FOR: I love the place.'

Hermione had still not written anything against accepting the task, but she knew she had pushed the only two reasons away. Reluctantly she voiced her fears.

'AGAINST: Memories of evil, violence and destruction. But do these outweigh the happy memories? AGAINST: Reacquainting myself with Professor Snape. But avoiding people does not solve the problem.'

Could those two reasons, especially with the caveats she had written after them, win over the pages of positive reasons?

Hermione read the lists several times more. She sat up straight, thumped her fist on the table and said out loud, 'No, I will not let the past dictate my future. I will accept the challenge.'

With that she threw the sheets into the fire, smiling as the paper caught and the smoke drifted up the chimney. The smoke was her concerns and as the burning ceased and the smoke disappeared, so did her worries.

Hermione slept soundly having made her decision. The next day she went straight to Kingsley's office and told him of her decision. He was delighted. He provided her with an outline of the task, informing her that she would be leaving in a week. A week in which Hermione would need to show a new witch how to do her job, pack and prepare paperwork for the work ahead.

She prepared several more of her famous lists, ticking items off as they were completed. With a day to go before her departure she was as prepared as she could be, but still checked her lists one more time that night.

That night with nothing else to think about Hermione thought her sleep would be restful, but it was not to be. As soon as she fell asleep the figure of Snape entered her dreams. A tall, thin figure striding purposefully towards her. Black robes billowing out, long dark hair streaming behind him as he bore down on her. His mouth opening and closing without a sound being heard. The apparition came to a halt in front of her, the cold, dark eyes boring into her. A long bony finger stretched out, almost touching her nose and then the drawling voice she had always detested in school, 'You're mine now, Miss Granger, to do with as I wish.'

The vision disappeared and Hermione woke sitting bolt upright in bed, covered in a cold sheen of perspiration. She shivered.

Hermione sat up for most of the night wondering whether she was doing the right thing. Eventually she drifted off to sleep, but it seemed no sooner had she done so than her alarm was going off.

Having showered and dressed she departed with her luggage to find the Portkey she had been informed of. It was exactly where she had been told; grasping it she felt the familiar twisting pull and then landed just beyond the gates.

She looked up at the imposing castle, nostalgia, good and bad, sweeping over her.

The gates swung open and there was the wheezing, stooped figure of Filch.

'We've been expecting you, Miss Granger. Follow me.'

He turned, shuffling along in front of her towards the castle entrance.

On reaching the large doors they opened automatically in front of them.

Hermione stepped into the large entrance hall. She looked around at the staircases moving, the high ceilings, drapes and floating candles. She inhaled deeply, letting the castle assault more of her senses. She felt at home.

But she also noticed the deep scars on the walls, the marks of misdirected spells caused during darker times and her memory was tinged with sadness for the friends she had lost.

Hermione was shocked out of her memories as a cold sensation filled her.

'Sorry,' said an ethereal character as he passed through her. 'In a rush. Annual meeting of the Headless Hunt, don't you know.'

'Still not a member then, Sir Nick?' she laughed.

The ghost paused in his flight, looking back at her. 'Well bless my soul if it's not Miss Granger. Welcome back, but must rush. I'm sure this will be my year.'

'Some things will never change,' she thought, with a comforting feeling of familiarity, a smile lighting up her face.

'This way,' wheezed Filch.

He turned and shuffled down the corridor, turned up three flights of stairs, halting in front of a room at the end of a corridor.

'This is yours for your stay. All your instructions and timetables are in there. Meal times as you will remember them. The headmaster is away on business at Durmstrang. You'll have to sort yourself out.'

With that he turned and hobbled off back down the corridor and disappeared from view before Hermione could say anything.

Hermione entered her room, she walked over to the window opened it and looked out. The grounds looked magnificent. Memories flooded back as she saw the Quidditch posts in the distance, the forbidding line of trees marking the boundary of the Forbidden Forest and sadly the sight of Hagrid's dilapidated hut. He had moved on and was now Ambassador to the Giants on behalf of the Ministry.

Returning to the desk in the corner of the room, she opened a large folder and read her instructions. There was a fully detailed timetable, indicating which lessons to attend, when she had free time to write up her report and where she was and was not allowed.

Turning to the timetable one name leapt out at her, causing an involuntary flush - Snape. How could just a name cause that reaction?

Hermione recognised very few of the other names. The wars had decimated the teaching profession and it was going to take some time to build back up. With this thought she begrudgingly accepted that someone like Snape, intelligent, articulate, talented, would be an asset to the school.

After freshening up she took a stroll around the castle, enjoying the sights and the memories they roused, of young witches and wizards dashing around corridors, prefects chivvying them along. Sounds, sights and smells that were most pleasurable.

That night Hermione slept soundly having organised and checked everything several times.

She breakfasted heartily, a confident aura about her, she was ready.

She attended two lessons, Arithmancy, which was excellent and Defence Against the Dark Arts, which was surprisingly poor. She made copious notes, satisfied that her job was worthwhile.

Hermione left the classroom, her mind alive with possibilities, her eyes shining with satisfaction. All negative thoughts banished.

She stopped suddenly, all positive thoughts dispelled, a cold tingle running up her spine. In front of her stood Professor Snape's tall, intimidating figure directing pupils onwards.

Should she just turn and leave, or confront him now.

She called to him and after a very curt, short conversation, the encounter was over.

Hermione stood in the corridor confused. He had been as dismissive of her as ever, but there was something else, a look in his dark probing eyes that did not promote fear, but something just as primeval.

His long dark locks, piercing eyes, aquiline nose and most surprisingly his voice had started butterflies in her stomach, feelings of what?

'Attraction, don't be ridiculous,' she chastised herself.

She was unable to analyse her feelings over the next two days, as they were so busy and had no further contact with him.

However on the third day she was waiting for him in the potions class.

Once again the conversation was stilted, Snape making unfair references to her performance as a student, but he looked at her differently.

Throughout the lesson Hermione caught Snape glancing at her with those dark intense eyes. As he did so her temperature rose and her body flushed, blood rushing around as her heart rate increased. The feeling became more intense as he moved around the classroom, his dark billowing robes following him along with a masculine musky scent.

At the end of the lesson, confused in body and mind, Hermione rushed back to her room.

She tackled this problem the way she did all others, work harder. She sat at her desk and wrote up her notes, working late into the night.

With a long yawn she stopped, undressed and got quickly into bed, hoping to find a swift path to sleep.

As she drifted off, images of Professor Snape entered her dreams. He was boring down on her and as he got closer Hermione saw he was naked, a huge cock pointing straight up his flat belly.

'Let us finish what we started,' drawled the apparition angrily.

Hermione sat bolt upright, hot and bothered and realised her hand was caressing her pussy, slick with her juices.

She was shocked and wide awake. She pondered the significance of her dream, then thought to herself, 'Over analysing things again, Hermione. If you can't sleep go and take a bath to relax yourself.'

She made her way to the bathroom of the girls' prefects. She ran the water as hot as she could stand and added sweet smelling bath salts to help her relax.

Hermione slid into the water, sighing at its heat and soothing feeling. Cupping water she rinsed herself completely then lay back with her head on the tiled edge.

There was still the unresolved matter of the turmoil between her legs and her hands slid down to caress her pussy. She stroked her lips gently, occasionally dipping a finger between them feeling the heat of her arousal.

As Hermione's arousal increased her other hand slid beneath the water and started to stroke her clit, the waves of pleasure from the sensitive bud running through her body, and she realised with shock she was imagining Severus' hands caressing her.

As she increased the pressure of her stroking, occasionally pinching at her clit, the pleasure built towards an orgasm, but she seemed unable to reach her peak.

'It has been so long but tonight I need a cock,' she thought to herself.

Reaching out she grasped her wand and used an advanced conjuration spell to summon up a pink dildo.

Dropping her wand she seized the rubber cock, turned on to her knees and ran it up and down, causing an outpouring and a spreading of her lips. She slid the dildo slowly past her engorged lips and pushed gently.

Hermione let it rest within her for a while, enjoying the feeling of fullness and then slowly started moving it back and forth. Her breathing became raspy and she lifted her hips above the water, resting her head on the bath's side, her other hand squeezing and stroking her clit.

Her eyes closed as the feelings intensified, a figure appeared in the forefront of her mind. A smooth, white torso, its sinews straining, above it a gaunt face staring intently at her, the eyes black as coal, the face of Severus Snape.

She did not stop her ministrations, but a surge of intense pleasure ran through her body. She thrust her hips higher and heard herself, as if in the distance, shouting for Severus to fuck her harder, telling him how she loved his massive cock.

Hermione reached her peak and orgasmed more strongly than she had for an age, gasps and groans escaping from her.

As the pleasure slowly subsided and her body sank back into the water she heard a sound. Her head shot round and she was looking straight at a very large erect cock being gripped in a fist. Slowly her eyes moved up the body until she was staring into the lust filled eyes of Severus Snape.


	3. Chapter 3

_A short chapter to bring the two protagonists stories together._

Their looks transmitted similar emotions, shock, disgust, loathing, but shining through was lust and desire.

Their eyes locked for what seemed an age, neither willing to break contact, until Hermione blinked and the spell was broken.

Hermione reacted first, covering her heaving breasts, she shouted, 'What the fuck are you doing in a female bathroom?'

Eyes flashing angrily, Snape replied, in a voice dripping with distaste, 'My dear young woman, I am a senior teacher in this establishment and when I find lights on and noise emanating from a room at this time of night it is my duty to investigate.'

'And what's that in your hand?' she snapped looking down at his erect cock, still gripped in his hand, 'Your fucking torch?'

Snape's eyes glared dangerously at Hermione. She felt that she may have gone too far, but he merely released his cock, drew his cloak across himself, turned on his heel and as he left said through pursed lips, 'Turn the lights off when you leave Miss Granger.'

The door slammed, Hermione's head dropped to the side of the bath and bitter tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her mind was in turmoil, she had just experienced an intense orgasm, but when the subject of her fantasy materialised she had felt incredible guilt and loathing.

Hermione tried to analyse her feelings. The most intense feelings were so closely related, lust and hate were such close bedfellows.

She remained in the water until it began to chill her body as it cooled. Shivering she climbed from the bath, wrapped a towel around herself, collected her clothes and returned hurriedly to her room.

She curled up on her bed, bitter tears of recrimination and anger coursing down her face. How could she have felt such intense feelings for that man? A bully, a former Death Eater she had fought against, in part responsible for the deaths of so many, despite what Harry and others now thought.

It was illogical and Hermione did not do illogical.

But she could not deny her body's feelings, feelings that were re-surfacing even as she had these negative thoughts about him.

Her mind in turmoil she drifted off into a dream filled sleep full of violence and passion with all the protagonists having the face of her or Severus.

At the same time Severus was suffering similar mental agonies. He sat on his bed, his head in his hands trying to dispel the image of Hermione pleasuring herself whilst intoning his name.

All the time reminded of his desire and lust by the painful erection that had not subsided since he had entered the bathroom earlier.

This was a woman he detested, and who he thought felt the same about him.

He lay back on his bed without disrobing, staring at his ceiling and at some point, he knew not when, drifted off to sleep.


End file.
